


Mixed Signals

by ladycyon



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Headbutting, M/M, Mating Rituals, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 21:14:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7405063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladycyon/pseuds/ladycyon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Casey begins to notice that Raphael has a bad habit. Now he has to decide: Is it really all that bad?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mixed Signals

Casey Jones noticed a pattern emerging out of his and Raphael’s nights out on the town.

First, they’d beat someone up, usually a lot of someones.

Vigilantism was both their drug of choice. To them there was no greater thrill than that of kicking some butt in the name of justice. It felt good to break up a would-be robbery, to save a mom-’n’-pop from having to shell out for a new piece of glass for their storefront or keep an old lady from getting mugged. It felt even better to prevent a rape before it happened, as they had tonight.

They sent a burly skinhead running with his pants around his ankles and their menacing laughter ringing in his ears. His gang of thugs were strewn unconscious across the alley.

Even his would-be victim had a good laugh at the sight of him crying for his mother as he fled. Casey thought it was good she could still laugh. She was a bit shaken up, had a growing bruise on her forehead, but they had saved her from the brunt of it. It could have been so much worse.

They had stopped that from happening. _Them_. Ordinary people. Well maybe not ordinary in Raph’s case, but Casey figured he was about as average Joe as one could get, minus the extracurricular activities. For him, saving people and busting up bad guys was such a pure, natural high - made him feel a rush of blood through his veins, a chemical cocktail of euphoria flooding his brain. It was addictive.

Things like that, they made a guy feel alive.

 

Second, Raph would leave Casey to mop up the mess.

Casey couldn’t blame the guy. It had to get tedious, being screamed at and called horrible names, sometimes being outright attacked when he was supposed to be feeling like a hero. Raph had never acted particularly sensitive to the remarks of humans he saved at first. Those people were confused, afraid. Raph knew what he was; he was comfortable in his scaly green skin - at least, that’s the facade he’d always maintained.

But it wore the guy out after a while. Or maybe Casey just got better at reading him.

He started getting snappy and irritable with those people, in ways they probably didn’t deserve. By then, Casey had spent enough time with the turtle that he was able to see through those snide remarks. The root of Raphael’s most cantankerous moods, he knew, grew from soils of pain and fear. If he was grouchy, it was a sure sign of unspoken hurt feelings.

Casey really didn’t mind letting Raph avoid causing a scene. It was the least he could do.

Before the girl could start screaming, Casey waved him off, stooping to offer the girl a hand to her feet.

Raph had long since disappeared from the nearby shadows by the time Casey helped the girl into a cab and bade her farewell, but Casey knew he wouldn’t have gone far. Sure enough, he found him on the roof, still antsy with energy, grinning savagely.

Casey couldn’t help but return the smile, approaching the turtle without hesitation and slugging him on the arm. “Nice work with that split kick,” Casey crowed as Raph sneered and returned the gesture, hitting Casey back. “Yours is almost as good as Leo’s now!”

“Almost?” Raph growled, grabbing Casey in a headlock. “Fearless ain’t got nothin’ on me!” he declared, rubbing his knuckles rapidly back and forth against Casey’s head. “And neither do you, Jones.”

“Oh yeah?” Casey grunted, bracing his hands against Raph’s side and carapace. He pushed against the turtle hard and his head popped free. He staggered backwards, but righted himself quickly, puffing out his chest proudly at his successfully executed escape maneuver. “What was that you were saying?”

Raph huffed irritably at him, rolled his eyes, and poked him in the belly, causing Casey to abandon his pose and curl in on himself. Raph laughed, his eyes going half-lidded as he watched Casey sputter indignantly. Casey darted forward towards Raph, intent on revenge.

 

Third, Raphael always headbutted him.

Casey had no idea why the terrapin always resorted to this, but the clashing of their foreheads stopped Casey cold in his tracks every time. This time was no exception. Raph jerked his head forwards smartly and for a moment Casey’s mind went blank. He swayed, struggled to pull the world back into focus.

Raph was never one not to press an advantage. While Casey was stunned, he moved in, grabbed the back of Casey’s neck and pulled him down for a fierce kiss.

As lovers, the line between fighting and foreplay was ill-defined. Sometimes they were one and the same. Pain often led to pleasure. Casey was used to his boyfriend’s violent displays devolving quickly into moments of carnal pleasure, enjoyed it even. Raph was a passionate guy. When his emotions ran high, he often sought an outlet for them. Casey was happy to oblige.

He could do without the headbutting though.

By the time his vision cleared, Raph had him backed against a high parapet, one hand still like a vice grip on the back of Casey’s neck. His other hand was tugging at the fly of his jeans. Casey groaned when Raph broke away from the kiss panting, a slight flush tinting his cheeks. Casey leaned forward, stole another kiss. Raph let out a husky churr against his lips, tapped their foreheads gently together again, much to Casey’s chagrin.

Still, it wasn’t as if Raph didn’t make it worth it.

* * *

 

The pattern held true, even when Raph was lying flat on his back and seeing stars. Casey kneeled beside him, reaching out to grab Raph’s shoulder. He shook him gently to rouse him. Raph’s hand shot out, caught Casey’s wrist before he could repeat the motion.

There hadn’t been anyone to save, this time, just a few thugs ripping off an electronics store after hours. One of them, however, had a baseball bat. In the scuffle, Raphael caught it with his head and dropped to the ground, instantly out cold.

Casey had dispatched the creep immediately after, rage and sick fear swelling in his chest at the sight of Raph’s unconscious form. He rushed the man, swung his hockey stick for all he was worth, catching the punk in the gut. The man doubled over and Casey sent him flying backwards with an upward stroke of his weapon.

He made quick work of the remaining two thieves, then stumbled over to Raph.

“Lucky shot,” Raph grumbled as he cracked an eye and brought a hand up to rub at the back of his head. That was going to be a hell of a headache in the morning. Casey matched Raph’s wince with a sympathetic grimace.

But he seemed okay, thankfully, if a bit woozy - at least he didn’t try to get up immediately. Casey chuckled with relief, shook away a dozen _what ifs_.

“Don’t worry, I made sure he’ll be drinking his meals through a straw for the next two months at _least_ ,” Casey told him, unable to make himself stop touching Raph. His hands wandered over the turtle’s body, checking him for other injuries.

“‘S what he deserves,” Raph muttered, bringing a hand up and grabbing a fistful of Casey’s shirt. He yanked downwards, hauling Casey towards him. Casey went willingly, but tried to pull back at the last second as he saw Raph’s head coming up to meet his.

Too late. Casey’s skull echoed with the force of the impact, his forehead throbbing smartly with pain. Then Raph was, once again, kissing away the hurt. Despite himself, Casey leaned into it, allowed himself to be distracted. He planted his hands on either side of Raph’s head and deepened the kiss.

Raph still had his hand tangled up in Casey’s shirt. He pulled insistently and Casey found he was, as always, helpless to resist his demands. He gave in, swinging a leg out and moving to straddle Raph, basking in the sweet sensations of friction between them. It felt good. Raph was warm beneath him. Breathing, awake, _alive._ For a moment there, Casey had been frightened. Now, life felt that much more precious.

Raph pulled on his shirt again, this time trying to remove it. Obediently, Casey moved to assist.

When it came to Raph, Casey was always helpless to resist.

* * *

 

The next time it happened, Casey couldn’t let it slide anymore.

One of the purple dragons they’d been fighting had already delivered an almighty headbutt to Casey that night, making Casey’s ears ring with the collision. It _hurt_ , much more than Raph’s playful ones, but he hadn’t let it stop him. He took advantage of his enemy’s proximity, driving a knee up into the gang member’s groin. He enjoyed the way the guy’s breath wheezed out of him as he fell to the ground. Not even the pounding in his head could rob Casey of _that_ joy.

“And _that’s_ why you should always wear a cup!” Casey scolded, shaking a finger at the fallen foe.

He turned and beckoned to his next opponent.

It wasn’t long before they were all defeated or running scared. Good thing too. His headache was getting worse.

So when Raph got in his space after they were done, cracked his forehead hard against Casey’s, and started to kiss him, Casey turned his head away in protest.

“Dammit Raph,” he groaned, rubbing at the sore spot. “Can we _please_ come up with a different super secret sex signal?”

“ _What_ signal?” Raph pulled back, face puzzled.

“What do you mean _what signal_?” Casey grouched. “You gotta stop headbutting me dude. It hurts.”

“I gotta stop…” Raph went silent, his face flushing a dark purplish color. He backed away from Casey, obviously uncomfortable. “I….uh, I didn’t realize,” he muttered. A pause. “Sorry.”

He turned away, shoulders hunched.

“Hey,” Casey said, his gut clenching at the sight. He quickly stepped towards Raph, reaching out to grab his arm and turn him back around. Raph’s gaze flicked to his and then away again, faster than the wing-beat of a hummingbird.

“It’s cool,” Casey told him, stepping closer. Raph shrugged and hummed a doubtful noise, but he didn’t pull away.

“Really!” Casey insisted. He pressed his forehead against Raph’s carefully, mindful of his bruise. It forced Raph to look at him. “You didn’t mean anything by it. We’re good.”

He braved giving Raph a quick peck, relieved when Raph reluctantly, slowly relaxed into him. Sometimes he just needed a nudge. “I just don’t want any brain damage, ya know?”

Raph’s lip curled up. “You mean, any _MORE_ brain damage,” he ribbed, eyes expressing a gratitude his words could not. “Didn’t know you were so fragile, Jones. Come’on let’s go back to the lair, have Donnie check out that soft head of yours.”

Casey laughed, swatted Raph on the arm, stole another kiss. Raph obliged, but his eyes flicked up to the growing bruise on Casey’s forehead. He began to herd Casey along more insistently. Insults, in Raph language, were an expression of affection. But Casey knew what Raph meant. He didn’t always have to say it explicitly.

For Casey, actions were enough.

* * *

 

Maybe a secret signal _wasn’t_ a bad idea, Casey thought a few nights later. He once again sat on a cot in Donatello’s lab while Raph’s brother patched him up. He was so used to their nights out having a happy ending that now, having been denied the opportunity, it was the only thing Casey could think about. He could hardly sit still.

A nasty fight gone sour had sent them hobbling back to the safety of the lair.

What had started out as a perfectly manageable drug bust quickly overwhelmed them when reinforcements arrived. Heavily outnumbered, they quickly began to lose ground. They were outmatched in weaponry too, they quickly realized when they heard the gunshots. A bullet grazed Casey’s leg.

Funny, he didn’t even feel it when it happened. But he knew they were in trouble.

“Time to go, Raph,” Casey shouted, voice strangled. He clutched his leg, trying to staunch the blood. Raph’s head turned to him, his expression grave. He nodded, eyes turning from Casey to scan the scene, searching for their escape route. By the time they got away, Casey was really starting to feel it though. The trip back to the lair hadn't been fun - Raph's mood growing ever darker while Casey slowed them down.

Next thing he knew, there was a penlight shining in Casey’s eyes and Donatello’s frowning face behind it. The beam of light was driving railroad spikes into Casey’s brain. In reality, the examination only lasted a few seconds, but to Casey it seemed to take forever.

Finally, Donatello clicked the light off and leaned back.

“No concussion,” he declared.

“Coulda told you that,” Casey said sourly, shifting in his seat, uncomfortable in more ways than one. Off to the side, Raph snorted derisively. He was in a bad mood. Getting their asses handed to them had that effect. So did Casey’s being hurt.

Donatello fished out a couple of over the counter painkillers, handed them to Casey along with a bottle of water. He then approached with a syringe. Casey eyed it sideways as he held it up.

“Local?” Donatello asked, gesturing to Casey’s leg. The wound wasn’t bad; the bullet had only grazed him. The bleeding hadn’t even been enough to be worrisome. He _did_ need a few stitches though.

Casey could have gone to the hospital, but he trusted Donnie. His day job didn’t offer insurance…he was more than willing to let Don sew him up. But he knew how hard drugs were to come by for the turtles.

“Nah,” Casey waved Donnie and his syringe off. “It’s only a couple. Save that for when you really need it.”

Donnie nodded and picked up a different needle. He bent to his work.

Casey hissed when Don sank the first stitch into his skin. He turned his head, eyes closed. It wasn’t that bad, but that didn’t mean Casey liked to watch. The sight of metal poking through his skin made him feel a little queasy.

A hand found his.

Casey peeked with one eye and saw Raph’s hand holding his own. Casey squeezed gently with a smile that was more of a grimace. He knew Raph understood when he returned the squeeze. Casey couldn't get  _that_ in a hospital. 

If he had a choice in the matter, he'd take having Raphael next to him over painkillers any day.

He felt the prick of another stitch being driven into his skin and he tried to push his focus elsewhere. He started to imagine Raph’s hands touching him in other places. Well...maybe that wasn’t the best train of thought.

Casey tried not to squirm as Donnie sewed him up and he struggled to find something safe to think about. Unfortunately, his brain seemed to be stuck on the track.

At least he was distracted. Donatello made quick work of him, finished before Casey could drag his mind out of the gutter.

“Thanks Donnie,” Casey said as Don applied a bandage. “I owe you one.”

“I’ll remember that,” Donnie said with a smirk, and Casey knew he would. That was fine. Casey would do anything for Raph’s family. _His_ family.

He’d be happy to.

He still held Raph’s hand in his. Casey still wanted his happy ending, after all. He stood up, testing his weight on his freshly stitched leg as Donnie turned away to tidy up the lab. His leg stung a bit, but it seemed manageable. Casey turned to Raphael, grinning.

“We’ll be busting punks up again in no time,” he assured Raph. He pulled the terrapin towards him by his hand. Carefully - _much_ more carefully than Raph would - Casey bumped their foreheads together.

Raph’s eyes went wide and he sucked in a breath, but it was Donatello’s embarrassed squeak that drew Casey’s attention. Casey’s head whipped around, found Don. He looked mortified, a flush heating up his face.

“You--” Donnie’s voice was higher than normal, pinched. “uh...I mean….um..”

It wasn’t often that Donatello was at a loss for words, but right then he was speechless. Before he could articulate whatever it was he wanted say, Casey felt Raph pull away from him. Casey turned to see Raph darting for the door.

“Wait!” Casey called after him, but Raph was already gone, his red bandana tails fluttering behind him. Casey made to run after him, but hissed in pain when the motion pulled at his stitches. He gave up, turning back to Don as he rested one hand tenderly against his stinging leg.

“What the hell?” Casey asked him. “What just happened?”

Donatello still looked embarrassed. He rubbed the back of his neck, cast his eyes to the side.

“Donnie. Tell me.”

Don coughed, but brought his gaze up to meet Casey’s, cheeks blazing.

“You gave him a mating signal,” Don said.

“Come again?”

“Surely you know what a mating signal is?”

“Yeah, but…” Casey trailed off, thinking of a dozen incidents that now made so much more sense. Donatello mistook his silence for confusion.

“We’re turtles, Casey,” he said, sounding like he was talking to a young child. “Turtles headbutt each other when they want to mate.”

“Oh.” Casey said simply, not wanting to give too much away. He could still play it off like he hadn’t known what he was doing. Of course, he _had_ known. He just hadn’t realized it wasn’t just a Raph thing, it was a _turtle_ thing.

“So I probably shouldn’t do that,” Casey said. Thought, _at least not in front of you guys._

“Probably not.” Donnie agreed. His eyes drifted towards the door. “You embarrassed him.”

“My bad,” Casey said, though he didn’t really feel bad at all. He had managed to save the situation. Their secret was still safe. Donnie just thought Casey was an ignoramous; that was par for the course. “Better go do damage control.”

“Don’t worry, he’ll get over it,” Donnie assured him as Casey limped towards the door.

“Yes,” Casey said. “I’m sure he will.”

* * *

 

Armed with the knowledge Don had bestowed upon him, Casey found he didn’t mind one bit the next time Raphael found him in the shadows of an alley after a fight and whopped their skulls together.

Raph, however, didn’t kiss him afterwards like he normally did. Instead, he looked horrified.

“Fuck,” he said, backing away from Casey. “I didn’t mean to, Casey, I didn’t think. I just--”

Casey growled, lunging forward.

He didn’t think about it, just acted.

He grabbed Raph by the shoulders. Before the turtle could utter another word, Casey brought his head forward, hitting it against Raphael’s with enough force to shut him up.

Immediately, Raph churred loudly. His pupils went wide as his whole body responded to Casey’s mating display. Casey grinned, suddenly enjoying the dull ache in his forehead and dragged his lover in for a kiss. Raph responded fervently, all enthusiastic hands and insatiable need.

It was like a secret weapon, Casey decided, when he saw the effect it had on Raph. In that moment, he was sold on the concept. He pulled Raph down to the ground, let his hands do some exploring of their own.

If headbutting led to moments like this, Casey thought as he and Raph twined together, it was fine by him.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so if you look this up, you'll find that headbutting is actually a TORTOISE thing, but this idea was eating my brain and I couldn't let it go. So I fudged the facts a bit for the sake of this story. Fight me. Or leave a nice review. Whichever.


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